Nunna daul Isunyi
by Scott Montgomery
Summary: Prof Hasana Jackson, coroner Ivan Telfox, and historian Graham Irwin trace alien bacteria to 1838 Arkansas—landing them right in the middle of the Cherokee Trail of Tears. When they are captured as escapees, they must determine how they have altered the


This story features the 'Mrs Jackson' character, and it takes place between "War of the Empires" and "The Origin Story."

The 'Ivan Telfox' and 'Graham Irwin' characters are mine. The Embassy 196, Arwakian Spacetime Junket, and Stellar Amulet concepts are mine—as are the characters of 'Ishia,' 'Nurse Kamama,' 'Sowi'ngwa,' 'Douran Richard,' and 'Rusty Halpin.' All other characters in the story are historical figures—including the little Cherokee girl, whom I have named 'Athalia.'

ASA/PR Registration № R692-13174, 24 Feb 2008

_Disclaimers__: Private John Burnett's journal was written in 1890 and is considered public domain. The Tomorrow People was created by Roger Damon Price and is copyrighted by __Talkbalk/Thames Television, __Nickelodeon, Viacom, Tetra Films, Reeves Entertainment, FremantleMedia, Pearson, the RTL Group, and (formerly) Big Finish Productions. __Lee Pressman and Grant Cathro created the 'Ami Jackson' and 'Mrs Jackson' characters. Roger Damon Price created the '__Elizabeth __M'Bondo' character, as well as the concepts of the Tomorrow People, the Galactic Federation, and the SIS. __This story is for entertainment purposes only, and I am not being compensated monetarily. Any copyright infringement on my part is purely unintentional._

**NUNNA DAUL ISUNYI**

Written by **Scott Montgomery**

From an Historial Chronicle by John G Burnett

Beginning in the 1820s, men, women, and children of the Five Civilized North American Indian Tribes were forced off of their ancestral lands by the United States government, to so-called Indian Territory over numerous routes, the most famous being the Trail of Tears, a forced relocation of the Cherokee tribes-people in Eighteen Thirty-Eight. They were herded into makeshift forts with minimal facilities and food, and then they were forced to march a thousand miles. Approximately four-thousand Cherokees died during their journey. In the Cherokee language, the event is called Nunna daul Isunyi, meaning the Trail Where We Cried.

1982—Novak Ranch, just outside of Tulsa, Oklahoma. Local veterinarian Douran Richard shows the famous coroner Doctor Ivan Telfox the carcass of a mutilated cow. Ranch hand Rusty Halpin points out the dead cow's sucked-out eyes. Doctor Telfox asks how rapid the decomposition is. Doctor Richard states that it usually takes place within two to three minutes. Rusty adds that nineteen of their cattle have been infected. Doctor Telfox presumes that Doctor Richard has already taken a tissue sample. Doctor Richard confirms, adding that the first animal disposal unit at the scene suffered severe chemical burns after touching the cattle. Doctor Telfox interjects, once again, that he is not a trained veterinarian. Doctor Richard insists that all of his colleagues are impressed with his credentials. Doctor Telfox reluctantly takes a tissue sample from the carcass and takes his leave of the folks at Novak Ranch.

Later, at his laboratory in Houston, Texas, Doctor Telfox throws his arms up in frustration. He has cross-referenced the bacterium extracted from the cow carcass with all catalogued bacteria known to man. He has ruled out mutations. Either this bacterium has been extinct for millions of years, or it is completely alien to Earth.

After being subjected to a strip search and body cavity search, Ivan Telfox is escorted into a dark underground bunker. He can barely make out a row of abandoned computer banks, radars, maps, an analog read-out screen on the wall, and roughly twenty unoccupied beds. In the corner of the room is a large circular disk with a stalagmite-like computer column strutting upward, like a table base without the top. Professor Hasana Jackson stands with her arms folded, looking at Doctor Telfox with disdain.

"Is all of this cloak and dagger stuff really necessary?" Doctor Telfox asks.

"You contacted me, Doctor Telfox," Professor Jackson insists. "I had to have you checked out." She nods to the two black-clothed men holding Doctor Telfox, indicating that they can leave.

As the guards exit, Doctor Telfox crosses to one of the computers. Its screen is illuminated. "This must be Ishia," he states matter-of-factly.

"You're remarkably well informed," Professor Jackson admits. She quickly loses her patience. "Embassy One-Nine-Six goes to great lengths to hide ourselves from the public, Doctor, and this blast shelter is supposed to be classified."

Ivan Telfox assures Professor Jackson that he has many friends and sources. He asks whether her organisation is affiliated with the Diogenes Club, the SIS, MI6, the Forge, Torchwood, or C19. A scowl-faced Hasana Jackson gloats that Embassy 196 is outside of British jurisdiction. Ivan Telfox suggests that they must be associated with UNIT, Interpol, MJ-12, or UNCLE. Professor Jackson blurts out that Embassy 196 is its own borderless sovereign nation-state.

"That's better," Doctor Telfox states with a satisfying snicker.

"Alright. I've shown you mine, now you show me yours," Hasana Jackson says dejectedly.

Ivan Telfox gets right to the point. He wants to borrow her biotronic computer. Using her best poker face, Hasana Jackson asks what he is talking about. Ivan Telfox shows his hand, letting her know that he knows that Embassy 196 has the most advanced data packet-switching network on Earth. Unable to deny it, Hasana Jackson maintains that the network's mainframe is housed outside of the country. Ivan Telfox is surprised. Happy to have the upper hand, Hasana Jackson continues that their biotronic computer, Ishia, is located in what they thought was an ancient Mesopotamian cave in Tarsis, Turkey. Ivan Telfox did not anticipate this response.

"What do you want it for?" Hasana Jackson asks.

"I need to analyse something," Ivan Telfox replies.

"What?" she quips.

"Alien bacteria," Ivan Telfox states triumphantly.

Hasana Jackson temporarily lowers her defences. She admits that Ishia will be unable to analyse his bacteria but that she has something that might be useful. She leads Ivan Telfox to the circular disk with the column in the corner of the room.

"This, Doctor Telfox, is an extra-terrestrial travel machine," Hasana Jackson proudly announces. "Its internal processing core can analyse anything. All you have to do is place your specimen on top of the central column."

"Amazing," Ivan Telfox confesses. "Did you acquire this extra-terrestrial device from the Galactic Federation?" he enquires.

Now the ball has dropped, Hasana Jackson thinks. She hatefully retorts that the Federation is a self-righteous, spineless entity and that the so-called Tomorrow People are its toothless puppets.

"You must be quite angry with your sister," Ivan Telfox interjects.

"My six-year-old daughter had leukaemia," Hasana Jackson states coldly. "Elizabeth knew that she was the only suitable bone marrow donor, Doctor Telfox, and she almost didn't return to Earth. My own sister almost didn't try to save her own niece's life." Hasana Jackson bravely holds back her tears.

Ivan Telfox is gentle in his re-approach. "How is your daughter now, Professor?"

Hasana Jackson composes herself. "Ami is doing just fine now. Thank you."

Ivan Telfox asks where on the travel device's central column he should place his petrie dish. Hasana Jackson carefully takes the culture from Ivan Telfox and places it on the column. Immediately, the column glows and makes strange noises. A piece of reflective panel on the column displays something in an alien language. Ivan Telfox stares at it cluelessly. Hasana Jackson divulges that she has only a rudimentary knowledge of the Arwakian language.

The voice of a young British man insists that he can help.

Hasana Jackson is furious with young Graham Irwin. She had asked him specifically not to reveal himself to their guest. "Doctor Telfox, may I introduce Mister Graham Irwin? He is our Sheffield Base's expert on history." Graham Irwin comes out of the shadows.

Ivan Telfox and Graham Irwin exchange greetings and hand shakes.

"I've been studying the syntax of the Arwakian language for two years now, Doctor Telfox," Graham Irwin eagerly persists. "Let me take a look at the read-out."

Graham Irwin joins Hasana Jackson and Ivan Telfox on the Arwakian Spacetime Junket's platform. He puts on his glasses and bends down to study the report on the column's reflective panel.

"The Spacetime Junket's computer can analyse microbial pathogens as single, immobilised progenitor cells and their progeny clones," Hasana Jackson reveals. "It can compile data about individual cell characteristics into a microbial population model."

Graham Irwin pops a pill in his mouth and then washes it down with some water from a flask. "Antibiotic," he explains. "I have a sinus infection."

Ivan Telfox couldn't care less about Graham Irwin's state of health. He ignores the remark and addresses Hasana Jackson. "That is much more advanced than standard microbial culturing," he admits. "I am impressed."

"The Arwakian computer has identified your bacterium as Psonia-Guilam, Doctor Telfox," Graham Irwin happily reports.

Ivan Telfox is none the wiser. Graham Irwin goes on to read that the bacterium is native to the planet Twarel Four.

The Ishia computer terminal beeps. With a Turkish accent, the synthesised Ishia voice proclaims, "Twarel Four is merely an intergalactic relay junction for spacetime teleport streams."

Annoyed that her computer terminal spoke up at all, Hasana Jackson replies, "Thank you, Ishia."

Graham Irwin is energized. "So in other words, the Psonia-Guilam bacterium could have innocently travelled with any number of extra-terrestrials that may have been passing through Twarel Four on their way to Earth?"

"Affirmative," Ishia helpfully replies.

Ivan Telfox tries to take all of this in. "Why would extra-terrestrials travel to Earth to visit Oklahoman bovines?"

"They probably didn't," Hasana Jackson states. "The fact that the animal disposal team members at Novak Ranch suffered chemical burns would seem to suggest that Homo sapiens are vulnerable to Psonia-Guilam as well."

"Humph," Ivan Telfox chuckles. "So you knew why I was here before I even told you."

"Ishia has access to the ARPAnet, Doctor Telfox," Hasana Jackson explains. "The Tulsa County Sheriff's Department filed a report with the U-S Department of Defence."

Graham Irwin squints his eyes and pushes his glasses back up to his face. "Professor Jackson," Graham Irwin begins, "I know what this says, but I don't know what it means."

Hasana Jackson looks at the portion of the read-out with a diagram of Psonia-Guilam and points to it. "Aren't those fiducial marks on the bacterium unusual?" she enquires, looking at Ivan Telfox.

Ivan Telfox looks for himself. "Yes," he replies.

Hasana Jackson is mortified. "I know what they mean."

"This symbol here means temporal or time," Graham Irwin interjects.

"Your bacterium has travelled through time as well as space, Doctor Telfox," Hasana Jackson announces with certainty.

"Can we get a fix on an exact point in time?" Ivan Telfox asks urgently.

Graham Irwin begins pressing his fingers against some of the Arwakian symbols on the reflective panel. "Yes," he declares, "The Arwakian computer has triangulated the bacterium's temporal point of origin to November the Seventeenth, Eighteen Thirty-Eight."

Hasana Jackson thinks quickly. "Have you ever travelled through time, Doctor Telfox?"

"I can't say that I have," Ivan Telfox replies curiously.

"In that case," she counters, "synchronise your watch. Next stop, Eighteen Thirty-Eight."

Hasana Jackson presses different symbols on the column's reflective panel. Suddenly, a light-brown aura appears around the circumference of the platform and expands upwardly into a perfect sphere, surrounding the central column as well as Hasana Jackson, Ivan Telfox, and Graham Irwin. Ivan Telfox is startled, but he quickly regains his equanimity.

"Ishia," Hasana Jackson instructs, "Log everything that has happened since Doctor Telfox arrived, and encrypt it. Send it Priority to Embassy One-Nine-Six's Izmir Base."

"Acknowledged," Ishia responds.

In a flash of light, the entire Arwakian Spacetime Junket dematerialises with its three passengers.

1838—Hundreds of horse-driven wagons lumber over a frozen ground. Freezing rain, sleet, and snow pelt the countless Cherokee men, women, and children being forced to walk alongside the short supply of wagons. American soldiers of the Second Brigade, Mounted Infantry, under Captain Abraham McClellan, prod the Cherokee Indians, as well as a handful of their African slaves, like cattle at bayonet-point. Cherokee Chief John Ross marches proudly in the snow, with his loyal wife, Quatie, at his side.

In a flash of light, the Arwakian Spacetime Junket materialises on top of a small hill, with Hasana Jackson, Ivan Telfox, and Graham Irwin inside. Its aura-sphere retracts into its base in an instant, and its passengers begin shivering.

"Something is wrong," Ivan Telfox states, "I can feel it."

"Are you sure we're in the right time, Mister Irwin?" Hasana Jackson asks.

Graham Irwin confirms the temporal coordinates on the Junket's column. "Yes," he replies, "we're in Eighteen Thirty-Eight."

Ivan Telfox steps off of the Junket's platform and sticks his hand into the ground. He retrieves a handful of soil from underneath the snow, studying its colouring with care. He then drops the soil, brushes off his hand, and looks at their surroundings. He points to a nearby body of water. "That is the Arkansas River," he proclaims to his two companions, "but the flora is all wrong."

"What do you mean?" Hasana Jackson asks.

"We're in the right time but in the wrong place," Ivan Telfox states stoically.

Graham Irwin begins pressing symbols on the column's reflective panel. "We're near Rogers, Arkansas, Doctor Telfox. We're nowhere near Novak Ranch or Tulsa, Oklahoma!"

Chief John Ross spots the strange object in the snow and the three people standing on it. Mrs Quatie Ross notes the strange clothing of the newcomers. Overhearing their conversation, Private John Burnett finds his commanding officer, Captain McClellan, and tells him of the three strangers on the hill. Captain McClellan orders one of his Sergeants to take charge and then orders Private Burnett to follow him up to the hill.

Hasana Jackson quickly opens a panel on the column and retrieves a futuristic bracelet. She puts it on and then covers it with her pantsuit coat sleeve.

"What is that?" Ivan Telfox enquires.

"Insurance," Hasana Jackson answers nervously. She has seen the two American soldiers approaching.

She steps off of the Junket's platform and motions for Graham Irwin to do the same. He follows her lead. Hasana Jackson stealthfully presses a button on her bracelet, and the entire Arwakian Spacetime Junket vanishes. Ivan Telfox looks at Hasana Jackson and Graham Irwin with trepidation.

"Not to worry," Hasana Jackson explains. "It's just cloaked."

Captain McClellan and Private Burnett walk up to the three strangers. McClellan squints his eyes and looks all three up and down in puzzlement.

"You three ain't from around here, are you?" Captain McClellan asks in a Southern American accent, obviously expecting them to recognise his authority.

Both Ivan Telfox and Hasana Jackson remain quiet.

"No, we're not," Graham Irwin imprudently replies in his British accent, "but…"

"Brits?!" Captain McClellan interrupts.

Hasana Jackson reluctantly attempts to take charge. "My name is Hasana Jackson," she explains. "I am a physicist from England attending a lecture in Little Rock. These are my colleagues, Ivan Telfox and Graham Irwin."

"Telfox?" Captain McClellan states, looking closely at Ivan Telfox's facial features. "He don't look Indian, but that's definitely an Indian name. What tribe are you from?" McClellan demands to know.

Ivan Telfox thinks quickly, back to when he visited Barkley College in Tulsa. "I am Creek Indian," he replies. Although his heritage is mainly French, Telfox thinks it wiser not to antagonise these soldiers or pollute the timeline with anachronistic reports for the history books.

Captain McClellan is sceptical. Telfox's attire is less frilly than most gentlemen's suits, but at least he speaks like a gentleman. McClellan is dubious, though, of Graham Irwin's argyle-patterned pullover-jumper. The Captain is mostly suspicious of Hasana Jackson. It's bad enough for a Negro woman to be dressed like a man, but it's intolerable for her to claim to be a scholar.

"Look here, Miss Jackson," Captain McClellan begins, "I reckon you is a runaway slave."

Hasana Jackson rolls her eyes. Ivan Telfox and Graham Irwin step closer to her, attempting to shield her from the American soldiers.

Abraham McClellan is quickly losing his patience. His orders are to keep the Cavalcade moving, despite the blizzard conditions. He will have to answer to General Winfield Scott if there is a delay, and these three strangers are wasting his time.

"Private Burnett," McClellan commands, "Take these three to Teamster Ben McDonal. Tell McDonal that we have ourselves a runaway slave, another Indian, and an English prisoner of war."

End of Part One

Ivan Telfox and Hasana Jackson hold their arms in front of their faces to try to shield themselves from the cold wind blowing through the hills of Arkansas. Graham Irwin holds his hands over his frost-bitten ears. Ivan Telfox looks around him in disgust, as the Mounted Infantry soldiers keep the Cavalcade moving—despite the sheer number of people dropping to the ground and sinking into the snow.

Private John Burnett escorts the three new arrivals to Teamster Ben McDonal, who is busy whipping a feeble old Cherokee man having trouble stepping inside a moving medical wagon with other sick deportees.

Elizabeth Brown Henley Ross, or Quatie Ross as she is called, leaves her husband's side in order to join the three strangers in Private Burnett's custody. "Order the driver to stop the wagon!" Mrs Ross commands.

Ben McDonal looks at the pitiful old woman in amusement. "My orders are to keep the wagons moving," he states dryly.

"And who gave you those orders, McDonal?" Mrs Ross asks sombrely.

McDonal chooses to let this one go. "Your husband," he replies, "Chief John Ross."

"Now I am ordering you to stop the medical wagon to let these people on board," she commands.

McDonal stands down, ordering the driver to stop. As the driver pulls on the horse's reigns, the elderly man that McDonal had just been beating loses his balance and falls backward into the snow. McDonal walks away in boredom.

Ivan Telfox immediately bends down to check the man's pulse and breathing. A Cherokee nurse from within the wagon hands four blankets down to Mrs Ross, who, in turn, uses them to cover the man in the snow, Doctor Telfox, Hasana Jackson, and Graham Irwin.

Chief John Ross, who has been watching his wife proudly over the last couple of minutes, approaches her and the three strangers.

"I am…" he begins.

"Chief John Ross, right?" Graham Irwin asks energetically.

"Yes, young man," the Chief replies. Chief Ross watches Ivan Telfox attend to the sickly man lying in the snow. "Are you a doctor?" he asks hopefully.

While continuing to listen to the elderly man's breathing, Ivan Telfox acknowledges the Chief's question and responds that he is a doctor who specialises in forensic science. Chief Ross thinks of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of his people who have died over the last six months. He has no need for a doctor who studies the dead.

Ivan Telfox asks Private Burnett to help him lift his patient into the medical wagon. The young Private happily assists. Burnett then helps Hasana Jackson step up into the wagon. Graham Irwin is the last to step inside, still shivering and sniffling from the cold. Hasana, Ivan, and Graham look at one another, all covered in snowflakes.

"This man may be suffering from exposure," Ivan Telfox tells Private Burnett.

"He is probably suffering from dysentery too," Private Burnett replies, "like all of the others."

"Sowi'ngwa does not have dysentery," Quatie Ross proclaims, as she climbs aboard the medical wagon. "But I fear that I may have it."

Chief John Ross nods at his wife from outside of the wagon and then walks away to join Captain Abraham McClellan.

Ivan Telfox, Hasana Jackson, and Graham Irwin all look at one another, each expecting someone else to speak first.

"Misses Ross," Graham Irwin states softly, "thank you very much for helping us."

Quatie Ross instructs the driver to resume driving with the Cavalcade and then sits in silence for a few moments, clutching her abdomen in pain.

"Misses Ross, we appreciate your kindness," Graham Irwin continues, "but none of us are Cherokee. Clearly, Captain McClellan has made a mistake."

Hasana Jackson chimes in, "We have transportation on the hill that the Captain found us on. If we could just be allowed to return…"

"Captain McClellan will not allow any of us to flee," Quatie Ross interrupts. "We have seen five Cherokees per day die during our passage through Arkansas," she states with angst.

"If it's not dysentery, it's pneumonia," Private Burnett offers. "I do what I can to help, but I still have to follow orders."

Quatie Ross knows this to be true. Private Burnett has been a friend to her tribe.

Ivan Telfox turns to the Cherokee nurse, Kamama. "What symptoms have your dysentery patients been displaying, madam?" he enquires.

"Diarrhoea mainly, Doctor," Nurse Kamama replies woefully. "Fever, vomiting, and abdominal cramps," she continues.

Ivan Telfox nods in agreement of the nurse's assessment. He looks over at Quatie Ross, who is still holding her stomach in pain, and he studies her facial expressions with care. "How long have you been feeling ill, if I may ask, Misses Ross?"

Quatie Ross indifferently replies that she may have eaten something that disagreed with her within the last three days.

"That would be consistent with the incubation period of the Salmonella enterica bacterium," Ivan Telfox tells Hasana Jackson.

Hasana Jackson decides to try again. "Misses Ross, our mode of transportation contains some equipment which may be able to analyse your illness and may even be able to suggest a course of treatment."

Quatie Ross is adamant that no one will be allowed to leave the Cavalcade. She has grown so weary of the cold temperatures and the snow, and she hasn't been able to feel her feet for the last week. Her legs ache from continuous marching. Harsh winters were difficult enough to survive when her people had their homes in Georgia, much less now that they are being forced to march through this cruel tundra like they are criminals.

Graham Irwin whispers to Hasana Jackson, reminding her that antibiosis won't even be documented by anyone until Louis Pasteur and Robert Koch do so in 1877.

"So I'm thirty-nine years too early to be discussing courses of treatment, aren't I?" Hasana Jackson states rhetorically.

"Professor Jackson," Ivan Telfox suggests, "Perhaps you should defer to me on medical matters?"

Nurse Kamama is certain that she has just overheard the young British man telling the African woman in secret that a cure for dysentery will be discovered in the future! "You have a potion that can treat our patients back at your own wagon?" she asks Graham Irwin.

"Sure," Graham Irwin replies in a startled manner. He imprudently retrieves his antibiotic prescription bottle from his coat pocket. "Erythromycin might even work."

Nurse Kamama looks over at Quatie Ross hopefully, with her eyes lit more brightly than they have been for months.

Hasana Jackson instinctively grabs the prescription bottle from Graham Irwin and tucks it into her own inner coat pocket. She is infuriated. "Mister Irwin, you imbecile!"

Graham Irwin's enthusiasm to find an excuse to return to the Arwakian Spacetime Junket had clearly overridden his common sense. He had reminded Hasana Jackson of anachronistic treatments just seconds ago. How could he be so stupid?

Quatie Ross has seen a lot during her lifetime. Instinct tells her that there is more than meets the eye to their Cavalcade's three new arrivals. Whether because of the effects of her illness or genuine hope beginning to form in her heart, Mrs Ross decides to take bold action. "Driver," she shouts, "Stop the wagon."

Hasana Jackson doesn't have to be a telepath to read the minds of Ivan Telfox and Graham Irwin. Embassy 196's science division had developed a protocol years ago when they had discovered that the Arwakian sphere was capable of time travel. Both Hasana Jackson and Graham Irwin know that they are obliged to give up their own lives if it means saving the timeline. Although Ivan Telfox is unaware of this official code of behaviour, he knows how imperative it is not to let anyone from this time period get his or her hands on that Erythromycin bottle.

The elderly Sowi'ngwa grunts, as the wagon comes to a sudden stop. Nurse Kamama gently places his head in her hands and readjusts his blanket.

Quatie Ross looks at Ivan Telfox, believing him to be the leader of his party. "Doctor, I will take your slave with me to your wagon on the far side of the hill that Captain McClellan found you on," she conveys. "and we will investigate your colleague's assertion that you have medicine to cure our dysentery."

Hasana Jackson musters up all of the self-discipline she can, not to react to being referred to in third person as a slave. Ivan Telfox gently pats her hand. Hasana tries to think pragmatically. The Chief's wife could have ordered Private Burnett to confiscate the prescription bottle, but she didn't. Furthermore, they have an opportunity to return to their means of escape from this point in history. She nods in agreement to Doctor Telfox.

"Very well," Ivan Telfox agrees. "Might I suggest, madam, that Private Burnett accompany you? It's getting dark, and there could be predators out there."

John Burnett brandishes his shotgun, just in case he has to protect the two women. "It should be okay. The bears will be in hibernation this time of year."

"But there are other animals that hunt their prey at night," Quatie Ross reminds the young Private.

"Yes, ma'am," Private Burnett concedes.

"Meanwhile," Quatie Ross addresses Nurse Kamama and Doctor Telfox, "you will both do what you can for Sowi'ngwa and the other patients."

Ivan Telfox nods respectfully. Hasana Jackson stands up and offers her hand to Quatie Ross. Mrs Ross accepts her helping hand to stand up. Hasana Jackson throws Ivan Telfox a keep-Graham-Irwin-in-line look, and then the two ladies jump out of the wagon into the snow-covered ground below. Private Burnett follows.

Sowi'ngwa moans and then asks Nurse Kamama for some water. Kamama gently places Sowingwa's head on the wagon's deck and searches for a flask.

Graham Irwin suddenly has a terrible thought. "History records that Quatie Ross died of pneumonia in Eighteen Thirty-Nine," he whispers to Ivan Telfox. "But what happens if she comes into contact with the Psonia-Guilam bacteria culture on the Spacetime Junket's console?"

"I see what you mean," Ivan Telfox replies quietly, "The incubation period for Psonia-Guilam could be a matter of minutes for all we know. We don't have the Arwakian sphere's databank to consult on that matter right now."

Ben McDonal is the first to notice Private Burnett escorting Mrs Ross and the new slave eastward toward the hill where the newcomers had been found. He brings the matter to Chief Ross's attention. Chief Ross directs McDonal to ignore them, but Captain McClellan spots them anyway.

"What on tarnations does young Burnett think he's doing?" Captain McClellan demands.

"If my wife has stopped the medical wagon, then you can be sure that she has a very good reason," Chief Ross states, commanding respect.

Captain McClellan is about to break formation and run after them until Ben McDonal points out that without the protection of the Cavalcade, they will most likely die. The Captain reluctantly marches on. McDonal smiles eerily. Chief Ross begins to break formation, but Captain McClellan stops him.

"Remember, Chief," Captain McClellan points out, "You said that your wife must have a very good reason."

Chief John Ross continues to march but looks down at the snow solemnly.

"McDonal," Captain McClellan orders, "go get that medical wagon moving again!"

If the elderly Cherokee woman can brave this bleak winter night, then so can I, Hasana Jackson tells herself. She wraps the blanket tightly around her pantsuit. Even then, she is still cold beyond belief.

Quatie Ross takes her strides with dignity, showing her people that they are still strong in the face of the white man's brutality. Ironically, this notion is reinforced by the fact that Hasana Jackson walks at her side. Private Burnett walks ahead of them, so none of the marching Cherokees think that the two ladies are his prisoner.

Without warning, a small Cherokee girl falls to the ground. Private Burnett picks her up. She is crying.

"What is wrong, Athalia?" Quatie Ross asks the young child.

"I can't go on," Athalia sobs. "I miss my mommy and daddy."

"Yes you can, my dear," Quatie Ross reassures her. "The screech-owl will guide and protect you."

Young Athalia looks deep into Quatie's eyes and begins to relax. Quatie takes the young girl from Private Burnett and then places her own blanket around her. "Lieutenant Greggs," Quatie beckons, "will you please see that no harm comes to young Athalia tonight?"

Lieutenant Greggs takes Athalia into his arms and continues marching. Quatie Ross holds her chin up high to reassure the girl. Athalia wipes her eyes and smiles. Quatie Ross then motions Private Burnett to continue walking. Quatie and Hasana Jackson follow. Hasana can't imagine how cold Quatie Ross must be now, without her blanket.

After walking a good fifteen minutes with the snow and sleet still falling on them—John Burnett, Quatie Ross, and Hasana Jackson reach their destination. Private Burnett has spotted five sets of human footsteps leading to a hill north of them. The fallen snow has not yet completely covered the footprints.

A wild, terrifying scream fills the air.

"What was that?" Hasana Jackson demands to know.

"Probably a cougar," Private Burnett states as calmly as he can, in order not to frighten the two women. "They are usually timid towards man."

"What about woman?" Hasana asks sarcastically. Maybe sarcasm can get her through this frightening time?

"Where is your wagon?" Quatie Ross asks impatiently.

Hasana focuses on the matter at hand again. "It should be right over the hill," she replies. Hasana Jackson stealthfully reaches inside of the left arm of her pantsuit jacket, to find the Stellar Amulet bracelet that she had taken from the Spacetime Junket. Her chilled fingers find the correct buttons on the bracelet, and she presses them.

Nothing happens. Hasana presses the buttons on the bracelet again. Nothing happens.

Quatie Ross notices that Hasana Jackson is touching her arm inside of her blanket and asks her what she is doing.

Hasana Jackson is panicked. Have the controls frozen in the cold temperature? If she can't de-cloak the Spacetime Junket, then she can't penetrate its idle-mode force-field.

Private Burnett looks at Hasana Jackson strangely.

I'll try a different tack, Hasana thinks to herself. She takes her left arm out of the blanket and pulls her sleeve up to uncover the Stellar Amulet.

Both Private Burnett and Mrs Ross stare at the bracelet in confusion. Neither one of them have seen jewellery with flashing lights on it before.

Hasana Jackson aims the Stellar Amulet bracelet at the snow and presses a different button. Suddenly, a laser beam shoots out of the bracelet and burns a hole in the snow. Hasana presses another button to turn off the stun ray. So the controls aren't frozen, Hasana thinks to herself.

Quatie Ross is now convinced that the African woman practices the black arts. She begins to wonder if she has made an error in judgment. Private Burnett looks on in wonderment.

The wild, terrifying scream fills the air once again. Private Burnett turns his head slowly to see a tawny-coloured cougar approaching them from beneath an undergrowth.

"It's going to attack," Quatie Ross states solemnly.

"But why?" Private Burnett wonders.

Quatie Ross points towards the undergrowth. "I fear that we have come too close to the cougar's den," she explains. "It is trying to protect its young cubs." Quatie Ross shivers in the cold.

"Oh my God!" Hasana Jackson says out loud. "I can't de-cloak the Junket because it's not there! If we have altered the timeline in any way, the controls are pre-set to return to the Sheffield Base in Nineteen Eighty-Two."

The cougar slowly retracts its lips to reveal its sharp fangs.

End of Part Two

The cougar moves closer and closer to Hasana, Quatie, and Private Burnett. It won't attack its prey unless it has to, unless the humans attempt to harm its two young cubs.

"Be very still, both of you." Quatie Ross instructs. The Cherokee woman closes her eyes, folds her hands in prayer, and looks up to the cold night sky.

From out of nowhere, a cluster of screech-owls descends upon the cougar, their calls piercing the large cat's ears unbearably.

Quatie Ross faints and passes out in the snow. Private Burnett and Hasana Jackson duck to avoid the attacking owls.

Unexpectedly, the cougar falls over on its side. It begins to cry in pain. Its two young cubs sheepishly emerge from the undergrowth and crawl towards their mother.

Just as quickly as the screech-owls had descended, so do they quiet down and fly away.

Private Burnett rushes over to Quatie Ross. She is still breathing.

Curious, Hasana Jackson approaches the mountain lion and her two cubs. The faint illumination of her Stellar Amulet reveals a dying cougar. As it takes its last breath, the two cubs begin to scream in fear of what is happening to their mother.

Hasana is sickened to see the mother cougar decompose right in front of her. She quickly gets John Burnett's attention. "We need to get these two mountain lion cubs back into the undergrowth, Private!"

The cougar's eyes collapse from within, and its flesh begins to secrete some sort of gaseous chemical.

Private Burnett gently picks up the mountain lion cubs, one at a time, and places them back inside their den.

Hasana Jackson presses a button on her Stellar Amulet. "Ishia, can you hear me?"

"Affirmative, Professor Jackson," the synthesised computer voice with the Turkish accent responds through Hasana's bracelet's spatial-temporal communication circuit.

"We are near Rogers, Arkansas, United States, November the Seventeenth, Eighteen Thirty-Eight. I believe that the Psonia-Guilam bacteria sample has blown off of the Spacetime Junket's console and has infected a mountain lioness," Hasana continues. "The poor creature has just expired, exhibiting symptoms similar to those experienced by the cattle at Novak Ranch outside of Tulsa, Oklahoma, in Nineteen Eighty-Two."

The two young cougar cubs try to burrow their faces into Private Burnett's arms, seeking comfort. Private Burnett breathes a sigh of relief and allows them to do so.

"We need to find a way to contain the Psonia-Guilam bacterium and prevent it from reproducing," Hasana Jackson tells her bracelet.

"I recommend constructing a tachyon containment field using the Spacetime Junket's electrostatic teleport projectors…" Ishia begins.

"I can't do that, Ishia," Hasana Jackson interrupts. "I believe that the Spacetime Junket has returned to Embassy One-Nine-Six's Sheffield Base. Can you confirm?"

"I will access the Sheffield Base's surveillance footage," Ishia advises. "Please stand by."

Great, Hasana Jackson thinks. Here she is, over a thousand miles and over a hundred years from home, with no means of returning. And the clincher is, in her attempt to satisfy Doctor Telfox's curiosity about alien bacteria, she has altered the timeline.

Despite his outrage, Ivan Telfox tries to keep his voice down. "How can you even suggest that this abomination of a so-called relocation is anything short of genocide, Mister Irwin?!"

"I didn't say that, Doctor Telfox," Graham Irwin states, defending his position. "I was merely comparing it with Turkey's deportation of Armenians in Nineteen Fifteen."

Nurse Kamama is intrigued by the two strangers' talk of future events, but she has her patients to attend to in the here and now. She continues to hydrate the once proud Sowi'ngwa.

"I suppose there is a similarity between the two massacres," Ivan Telfox admits.

"President Van Buren was no more evil than General Ataturk was," Graham Irwin interjects.

Ivan Telfox mindlessly mutters the cliché, "People who don't read history are doomed to repeat it." Doctor Telfox then gathers his thoughts. "What exactly is your point, Mister Irwin? An atrocity is being committed against these poor people. Four-thousand of them will die before they reach Tahlequah, and seventeen-thousand of them have already suffered in concentration camps."

"And people won't read that history either, Doctor," Graham Irwin insists. "I'm thinking Adolf Hitler!"

Ivan Telfox realises that both he and Graham Irwin have raised their voices so much that Nurse Kamama and most of the patients within the medical wagon are hanging on their every word.

"I like you, Doctor Telfox," Nurse Kamama declares softly. "You are a white man who recognises this relocation for what it really is, a mass extermination of our tribe."

Ivan Telfox is embarrassed. "I only wish that we could do more to help, Kamama."

"You have helped enough!" Ben McDonal shouts, as he climbs up into the medical wagon. He retrieves his whip from its holster and raises it up in the air above Ivan Telfox and Graham Irwin.

Nurse Kamama screams, cowers down, and tries to protect Sowi'ngwa and her other patients.

"I'm giving you two a thirty-second head start to run for the hills before I beat you both to death!" McDonal heralds with exuberance.

Ivan Telfox and Graham Irwin exchange panicked glances.

Doctor Telfox then addresses Kamama for the last time, "Continue to hydrate your patients, Nurse."

Angry with McDonal but frightened for Telfox and Irwin, Kamama quietly replies, "Yes, Doctor."

Without having to be asked twice, both Graham Irwin and Ivan Telfox run past McDonal, bent over to avoid his whip, and jump down into the rigid layer of snow beneath them. Ben McDonal chuckles maniacally and orders the driver to start the wagon and to pick up the pace to catch up with the Cavalcade. The horse brays in pain, as the driver sinks his spurs into the poor creature.

As the medical wagon moves away, Ivan Telfox helps Graham Irwin up from the ground. They both wrap their blankets around their heads to keep the insufferable sleet and snow out of their faces. Graham Irwin begins coughing.

"We have to locate Professor Jackson," Ivan Telfox insists. "Do you have any sort of extra-terrestrial homing device or means of communication, Mister Irwin?"

"I'm afraid not, Doctor," Graham Irwin apologises. "But we can retrace her steps." Graham Irwin has detected three sets of footprints in the snow leading to the east.

"Humph," Ivan Telfox grumbles. "You Embassy One-Nine-Six people aren't very organised, are you?"

Graham Irwin ignores the question, and they both begin their excursion through the blizzard, following the footprints in the snow.

Hasana Jackson's Stellar Amulet beeps.

"Professor Jackson," the voice of Ishia verbalises, "you were correct. The Arwakian Spacetime Junket has materialised back at the Sheffield Base."

"Send it back to us at once, Ishia!" Hasana Jackson shouts into her bracelet.

"I cannot comply," Ishia retorts. "My biomorphic appendages cannot interface with the Junket all the way from Izmir."

Hasana Jackson's anger yields to the logic of her biotronic computer.

"And even if they could, Professor," Ishia continues, "I would not be able to override the timeline protocols programmed into the Junket's guidance systems."

Hasana Jackson thinks. "Extrapolate from theoretical, Ishia. If we repair the timeline on our end, should the Spacetime Junket return to us of its own accord?"

"It is possible," Ishia speculates.

"Right," Hasana Jackson states. "Have you worked out a way for us to contain the Psonia-Guilam bacterium?" she asks, switching gears.

"I have accessed the ARPAnet," Ishia announces. "According to a report filed with the U-S Defence Department by the State of Oklahoma just hours ago, health officials have been successful in eradicating the Psonia-Guilam bacterium by releasing broad-spectrum macrolide antibiotics in remote-controlled aerosol bombs placed at equidistant points around the infected cattle."

"Macrolide antibiotics?" Hasana Jackson asks. "Don't just tell me the family. Give me a brand name or something."

"The most commonly-used macrolide antibiotic is Erythromycin," Ishia replies.

Hasana Jackson ruminates. "We happen to have some," Hasana tells the voice from her bracelet, briefly checking her inner coat pocket to ensure that the prescription bottle is still there. "Can you instruct me on how to turn a pill into an aerosol gas using the Stellar Amulet?" she asks.

"Ermeni Soykirimi," Graham Irwin mutters to Ivan Telfox.

"What?" Ivan Telfox asks.

"That's how the Turkish people refer to the Armenian genocide," Graham Irwin explains. "Actually, they don't think of it as genocide…"

"I have had enough of your incessant prattling, Mister Irwin!" Ivan Telfox interrupts with annoyance. "Please just be quiet unless you have something to say about Professor Jackson's whereabouts."

"But don't you understand the significance of history repeating itself, Doctor Telfox?" Graham Irwin persists.

"I'm a doctor, Mister Irwin, not an historian," Ivan Telfox replies woefully. "If you have a patient or a cadaver, I'll be happy to assist you."

"In that case," Graham Irwin replies, having spotted Quatie Ross lying in the snow next to Hasana Jackson roughly ten feet in front of them, "We're both in luck."

Ivan Telfox places his hand on his forehead to shield his eyes from the snow, as he runs towards Quatie Ross. Once at her side, Doctor Telfox bends down to feel for a pulse. "She's still alive," he reports.

"Am I pleased to see you two!" Hasana Jackson blurts out.

"She'd better still be alive, Doctor," Graham Irwin interjects. "Remember, she can't die until next year."

"I'm afraid that Quatie Ross does have dysentery, Mister Irwin," Doctor Telfox maintains.

"We could be right in the middle of a predestination paradox!" Graham Irwin proclaims with excitement. "Maybe we were meant to be here to cure Quatie Ross!"

"So that she can die of pneumonia in just a few months' time?" Ivan Telfox replies crossly.

"History sometimes hangs on the smallest of prefaces," Graham Irwin insists. He turns his attention to Hasana Jackson. "Do you still have my medicine, Professor?"

Hasana Jackson is silent.

"That's good, Mister Irwin," Ivan Telfox admits. "Erythromycin is a good course of treatment for the Salmonella enterica bacterium."

"That might be a problem," Hasana Jackson states gingerly. "The antibiotic is now in liquid form, inside my Stellar Amulet, Private Burnett's water flask, and his map bag."

"What on Earth for?" Ivan Telfox asks bewilderedly.

"According to Ishia, Erythromycin is also a good course of treatment for the Psonia-Guilam bacterium," Hasana Jackson replies. "We have to detonate three crude explosive devices around that poor deceased mountain lion in order to release the Erythromycin in aerosol form," she continues, pointing at the cougar's carcass.

"How were you able to contact…" Ivan Telfox begins to ask, but then he changes his mind. It is irrelevant.

"But we have to give some of it to Quatie Ross, Professor!" Graham Irwin states resolutely. "If we don't, then the timeline may not be repaired!"

"Where is Private Burnett?" Ivan Telfox enquires, looking around for him.

"He is inside a nearby cave, trying to acclimate that unfortunate cougar's young cubs to their new den," Hasana Jackson reports.

"How much does he know?" Graham Irwin asks.

"Enough," Hasana Jackson replies. "We'll have to use a selective synaptic inhibitor on him before we leave."

"That's assuming that we leave," Ivan Telfox retorts. "You're both operating under the assumption that saving Quatie Ross will repair the timeline. It seems to me that if we are trapped inside a predestination paradox that we are fulfilling history, not correcting it."

Hasana Jackson and Graham Irwin look at one another in surprise.

"It doesn't matter," Hasana Jackson argues. "We have a duty to perform with the aerosol bombs. The Psonia-Guilam bacteria must not be allowed to live."

Ivan Telfox ponders that assertion. "Mustn't it be allowed to live?" he hypothesises.

"What do you mean?" Hasana Jackson probes.

"Think about where we arrived, you too," Ivan Telfox explains. "Arkansas, not Oklahoma."

"So? The Spacetime Junket got the spatial coordinates mixed up," Graham Irwin argues.

"Let him finish," Hasana Jackson says, addressing young Graham Irwin.

"You programmed the Spacetime Junket to locate the original temporal point of origin of the Psonia-Guilam bacteria on Earth," Ivan Telfox explains. "That means here! We brought it here ourselves!"

"So the Psonia-Guilam bacteria found in Nineteen Eighty-Two Oklahoma may have remained in a dormant state for a hundred and forty-four years!" Hasana Jackson realises. "We are probably carriers, and so are the Cherokees in that Cavalcade on that Trail of Tears!"

"And there are Cherokee Indians living all around the Tulsa area in Nineteen Eighty-Two," Ivan Telfox continues. "Every one of us carries around harmless bacteria. Perhaps one of the properties of Psonia-Guilam is that its offspring only exist in an active state under extraordinary circumstances."

"In that case," Hasana Jackson points out, "the health officials in Oklahoma have already eradicated the active Psonia-Guilam for us. We don't need to detonate these makeshift bombs."

"But Quatie Ross needs the Erythromycin!" Graham Irwin insists.

Ivan Telfox's professional ethics kick in. "Give me the liquefied Erythromycin in your bracelet, Professor," he commands.

Hasana Jackson presses a button on her Stellar Amulet, releasing a small glass capsule. Ivan Telfox takes the capsule, opens Quatie Ross's mouth, and gently pours its contents into her throat—taking care not to choke her.

Quatie Ross awakens, coughing. "Doctor," she says timidly, "I knew that you would not fail us." She passes out once more.

Abruptly, the Arwakian Spacetime Junket materialises in the exact spot it had landed them on many hours ago. Hasana Jackson, Ivan Telfox, and Graham Irwin cheer in genuine relief.

Hasana Jackson tells Ivan Telfox and Graham Irwin to move Quatie Ross onto the Junket's platform so that they can take her back to the Cavalcade before they leave 1838. The two men gently pick up Chief John Ross's wife and lift her down onto the Junket's circular platform.

Private John Burnett runs over to them, with two playful cougar cubs at his tail. "I'm sorry, ma'am," Private Burnett apologises. "The cubs drank the elixir before I was able to carry out your instructions."

Hasana Jackson smiles. "It's all right, Private," she replies with laughter. She has just had a brief second of total clarity. "It seems that history never meant for those two cubs to die."

Goosebumps form all over Graham Irwin's already-chilled body. "You mean that we changed the timeline by infecting that dead mountain lion with Psonia-Guilam? That's ludicrous."

"Yes," Hasana replies, still laughing at the wonder of Mother Nature. "Apparently, one or both of those two cubs is responsible for a pivotal moment in history."

"But not human history," Graham Irwin states in disbelief.

Ivan Telfox is confused. "But if we hadn't done that, then we wouldn't have been able to fulfil history by curing Quatie Ross of dysentery."

Hasana Jackson and Graham Irwin look at Ivan Telfox as if he has just said something foolish.

"You'll get used to temporal paradoxes if you hang around us, Doctor Telfox," Hasana Jackson states matter-of-factly.

Graham Irwin presses a symbol on the Spacetime Junket's reflective panel, releasing a hatch on its central column. He reaches in and retrieves a tiny flat device with lights flashing in sequence.

"Please join us, Private Burnett," Hasana Jackson tells the bewildered young soldier.

Somehow sensing that it is okay to trust the three strangers, Private Burnett walks over to the circular platform and steps up onto it. Graham Irwin gently places the selective synaptic inhibitor on the Private's forehead. Private Burnett passes out, falling onto the Junket's central column.

Hasana Jackson begins pressing symbols on the column's reflective panel. The familiar light-brown aura appears around the circumference of the platform and expands upwardly into a perfect sphere, surrounding the central column and its five passengers. The entire Arwakian Spacetime Junket dematerialises in a flash of light.

The two young cubs are startled, but they soon forget and run playfully back to their new cave.

The hundreds of horse-driven wagons continue their slow journey through Arkansas's frozen terrain. Freezing rain, sleet, and snow continue to pelt the men, women, and children being forced to walk alongside the wagons.

The soldiers of the Second Brigade, Mounted Infantry, continue their forward march—led by Captain McClellan and Cherokee Chief John Ross.

Mrs Quatie Ross leads their people in a resounding chorus of "Amazing Grace."

11 December 1890—Private John G Burnett, retired, celebrates his 80th birthday by writing down some of the stories from his childhood and early adult life that he has been promising for his children for decades now. He has just recently begun to remember some of the events surrounding his assignment to the Second Brigade, Mounted Infantry, during the removal of the Cherokees from 1838 to 1839.

"I wish that I could forget it all," he writes, "but the picture of six-hundred and forty-five wagons lumbering over the frozen ground with their cargo of suffering humanity still lingers in my memory. Let the historian of a future day tell the sad story with its sighs, its tears, and its dying groans. Let the judge of all the Earth weigh our actions and reward us according to our work."

John Burnett still has memory gaps from one evening in particular, the evening that Chief John Ross's wife had given her own blanket to young Cherokee girl, Athalia. He vaguely remembers leaving the Cavalcade and tending to a couple of mountain lion cubs. For the life of him, he can't remember why he did those things. It doesn't matter, he realises. What matters is the atrocity of the Trail of Tears.

End of Part Three

_Additional Credits__: Cavan Scott and Mark Wright created the concept of the Forge. Russell T Davies created the concept of Torchwood. Gary Russell created the concept of C19. Derrick Sherwin created the UNIT concept. Norman Felton and Sam Rolfe created the UNCLE concept. Any copyright infringement on my part is purely unintentional._


End file.
